Nothing is Unthinkable
by SecretlyBeautiful
Summary: After a vicious fight, Max comes to a realization and Alec comes to his own.
1. Nothing is Unthinkable

Nothing. Nothing was what he expected and nothing was what he was met with. Wasn't it like his fate that his own words, curse his own god damned words, would be his undoing. Their undoing. Her undoing. Everyone was undone, stripped to the bare emotions they held inside. But there was still a layer, one he could only dream of getting past. A layer of resentment, confusion, frustration, anger. A layer of human logic verses animal instinct. Not impossible to break, but simply unthinkable. Yet that was the problem. To share them with her, his thoughts, his dreams, his pleasures, it was unthinkable. But for her to change, for their lives to be different, to him was equally unthinkable.  
  
So, there he was, staring at asphalt beneath his roaming feet. There he was, thinking only the thinkable. It was clear the phrase, 'thinking out of the box,' was a new concept to this man. It was painfully obvious to all who looked into his soul through the deep mesmerizing depths of his hazel eyes that this man had never colored out side the lines or stepped a toe out of line. But he had. Twice. Just a toe. But every slight movement seemed like a gigantic leap. His heart started to race as he thought of the words. The words that he had said, her response. The whole scene played out over and over. Each time, he discovered some new problem. A flaw he had overlooked. Though small, simply a tone or a single word would drive him mad if misplaced. He longed to take himself out of the pure misery he endured and make it stop then and there. But to him, that was unthinkable. A soldier never quit a mission. A man never abandoned his ego. A guy never left his woman. They were all utterly unthinkable, unheard of. But slowly, each of his was breaking down. Missions became unclear and unimportant in this world. Ego was something of his slowly eroding at this particular misfortune. His woman, well, his woman wasn't his.  
  
But 'his' woman was breaking down into slow, deep, soulful sobs. Between shakes of her now fragile body, she felt deep pangs of remorse, each one representing a different abusive term, a misused word, or a phrase gone out of control. What had happened? It had started as a discussion, turning into a fistfight, then transforming into a full out emotional brawl. Every word she used that dripped with venom was only said halfheartedly. She needed to cry away her anger or beat away her tears. She disliked him, hated him, despised him, loathed him, detested him, adored him, loved him. She hated herself. She was too stubborn to allow his words to sink into her egotistical radiating confidence. It wasn't even confidence, it was more of superior outlook. Damn her! She always fucked things up, one reason for the self-confident mask she practically wore out, but that shit was never flung back in her face. Sure it always given back to her somehow, but never had it hit her hard. It had never been about an important life changing decision. Not once. Until now. Now she was his, but he would never know. He was gone from her life. Permanently and forever. Suddenly, the heart wrenching sobs returned and began to lull the tear soaked woman to an anguished state of mind that some call dreaming.  
  
As he slipped down the cold, hard and semi-damp wall, slipping off into a distressed memory, Alec's anger was met with a feeling of disgust at all the previous happenings.  
  
* I LOVE YOU DAMN IT! *  
  
*You asshole! You liar! You're just trying to fuck up my life AGAIN! *  
  
*Don't even start! I did NOT bring this on you, but I CAN tell you losing the fucking 'I'm a tough-ass bitch,' act will help your sorry situation! *  
  
*My sorry situation?! That's how you talk to the WOMAN YOU CLAIM TO LOVE?! *  
  
*What about the man YOU claim to love? Why the fuck aren't you bowing at his feet and mighty pasta bowl? *  
  
*THIS IS ALL YOUR FAUL—*  
  
* IT IS NOT MY FAULT! THIS IS ALL ON YOU! YOU are the one insecure enough to never leave his clutches and reach out to someone who can give you true pleasure and love. YOU are the one blinded by his pre-pulse grotesque wine and charm. YOU are the one too weak too realize any of this. YOU are the one throwing YOUR chance away. I DO love you Max, but this, this is just too fucking much! This time it is MY turn to run from a suck-y situation. So goodbye, I am going to take this whole load of bullshit off my shoulders and go. And when you think of this experience, I hope you always remember YOU BROUGHT IT ON YOURSELF! *  
  
"I love you too, you big dipshit. I love you more than you will EVER fucking know." Max whispered in the darkness. "More than you will ever - fucking - know." 


	2. Offending Machines

Max stared at the cold white plastic buttons. Her finger trembled as it traveled towards the unnerving object. The small beep blared through her, tormenting her. She thrust the instrument against the wall and listened in pleasure as it loudly crashed. But the annoying object called to her, beckoning her to do the inevitable. Slowly she bent down and reached for the phone, once again intent on calling her- friend? –Enemy? –Boyfriend? –Crush? No! Not a crush, it sounded too young and girly. *Boyfriend? * Max snorted, * I can only wish. * He was defiantly not her enemy, but at their current situation, they weren't exactly friends either. A sigh echoed through the apartment, * this is yet another not-like-that relationship. * A single tear fell down her cheek, landing on the receiver that troubled her just a moment ago.  
  
The same tear was mirrored on the silky skin of her desire as he slowly drove past a sign that read, 'you now leave Seattle. Please visit again.' But through all of his stormy thoughts and watery eyes, he could only decode, 'Leave Seattle. Please.' He saluted the message and said with venom, as if he were talking to Max, "Gladly."  
  
Attempting to get his mind off the woman still driving him mad, he turned on the radio. The notes hit his ears with a painful familiarity to them. They had a sad, regretful tone to them. Then the words began and he immediately felt attached to the song, like it was singing to him. It spoke about the 'Best Deceptions'; something Max seemed to know a lot about. The thought of Max quickly made him change the station. A rock song broke the silence of the road blurring beside him. "Will you be my best friend, if I offer you my heart? Cause it's already yours." His heart was hers, his best friend's.  
  
"SHUT UP!" he screeched at the machine. "STOP MAKING ME THINK OF HER!" He punched the music box will all his might, making it silent once again. Blood gushed through the calloused skin of his hand, spreading from his knuckles to the tips of his fingers. It spilled over onto the steering wheel of his newly borrowed Chevy convertible, drawing his attention to the flow and causing more curses to form on his luscious lips. A small ring dared to present itself to the angry owner, quietly asking for an answer while apologizing for its nuisance.  
  
"No. I won't talk to her," Alec ground out. "She'll have to feel pain. Pain like she's causing me. Look at this!" He displayed his hand to the questioning item. "See that? That's what she's done to me! She's made me insane! She's driving me away!" At that, the phone muted its cries, but the name on the caller ID stared up at him and silently whispered, 'You're the one driving away.' Alec froze at the truth of the phone's words. "A talking phone? I'm telling you, I am going crazy." Nevertheless, his foot did not press on the gas. He closed his eyes and threw his head back at the small, painful sting of salt water. He sighed deeply, contemplating what to do, which path to take. His mind was as foggy as his vision as he stared up at the blurring stars, asking for an answer to his bizarre plight. He was asking for help in his strange little life, convinced that it would never come. Alec gave in and let the darkness take him for he knew not of any other choice.  
  
Max gazed out of the window, seeing the stars twinkle in delight. She wished she could join them, not caring, not crying, not feeling, not seeing. Each little spark reminded her of what her life had been, what her life was, what her life could be. It was like a huge vault, holding every memory and hope hostage in balls of fire, teasing all who paused to ponder upon them. Although some say they feel small and insignificant with annoyance at the wrath of the massive stars, but Max thought it with a melancholy smile. If only she were insignificant enough to just be forgotten between all the people. No one chasing her, no one hating her, no one pissing her off so much that she loved him and no one to make her cry. If only she were alone. But the thing that pissed her off is that you are never alone. No matter where you are, no matter what time you are awake and no matter how hard you try, there will always be someone else in the world, making it impossible to be truly alone. Max was even considering taking all the pain away and just disappearing. Yet some part of her was demanding that she stay. Some part of her brain was yelling and screaming at her to keep her life, stay at home and try to be happy. But part of her life, part of her home and part of her happiness wasn't in Seattle anymore. All that Max thought before drifting off to a dreamland was, "I have to get him back." 


	3. Envisioning Fire

This is what she was reduced to. She was THIS desperate. She had stooped this low. Staring at the door, bland and boring as its occupant inside, Max worked up the nerve to sneak into the place. She took a deep breath, breathing out the last of her sanity.  
  
Max gently eased the door open and waltzed in as if she owned the place. She did. Well, she could if she wanted. But she didn't.  
  
She began with her usual routine. That was the way it was with him, always the same routine. The routine was getting old, and so was he. The same greeting, the same return, the same dinner, the same beeper, the same emergency, the same man was getting old. His routine was outdated, just like his dorky sense of humor, his cowlick-spiked hair, his superhero attitude, his attraction to Max and his confidence that anything was achievable with patience. Well, something in particular was achievable with patience. Well, 'News Bulletin' buddy, Max was out of patience.  
  
"Hey," she began, barely able to control her eyes from rolling.  
  
"Hey yourself," he beamed a shiny smile at her. Instead of shielding her eyes, Max continued with her business of being here. She wouldn't be here for any other reason.  
  
"Ummm.... I need your help." Max got straight to the point.  
  
"Oh. Okay, what's up?" Logan was like a lonely puppy whose owner just arrived. It was almost disgusting. His eyes were wide, begging for a chance to be at her service.  
  
"He... he left." Max tried her hardest to keep her eyes dry. Her Manticore mask covered her features, but it was fractured; she couldn't stop her face from deforming and the tears to tried to break through her tough exterior.  
  
"Who left?" Logan, only slightly recognizing her agony, continued to look at her with a questioning hope. Max's face changed immediately. She morphed from sad and worried to damn right pissed off.  
  
"Who else, Logan?" His strength wavered as the subject of their confrontation was revealed.  
  
"Oh," was Logan's only comment. He was disappointed; when it came to him, Logan was helpless.  
  
Max looked him up and down, loathing clouding her vision making her see red. He was despicable. He went from servant to enemy in a second. He always had.  
  
"Just find him," she spat with more venom than she had ever used before. Max glided out of the apartment, slamming the door. She began her search for something to kill immediately. Right now, it seemed like the only thing to soothe her nerves. But even killing something wouldn't do that. Only Alec could.  
  
Alec woke to the cheerful tune of his cell phone's call. His location dawned on him and he began to search for threat. He found only his humming phone, continuing its insanely happy jingle. The name flashed on the little screen, 'Logan.' Alec let out a cackle that lacked feeling and emotion. So, she gone back to Log-boy? It took her longer than I thought. Then, another call rang in, blasting the annoyingly optimistic song once again. This time, the name was that of his obsession, his desire, his heartache. Max? But then why is Logan calling? Who cared? It wasn't like she owed him anything. She didn't love him, she didn't feel sorry. She never felt sorry. Not when it came to him.  
  
Alec sighed. That was it. He would stop. He had to. She was taking over his brain. It was all he could think about, all he could concentrate on. His eyes took on a malicious gleam, turning a normally carefree man into a killer. All his movements were automatic. He fired up the ignition and shifted the car into gear. His foot slammed on the gas, getting pleasure out of slamming back against the seat. He eyes filled with fire and he sped off into the distance, not knowing where he was going and not giving a damn. No one did.  
  
Except one person, who sat against her windowsill, envisioning him safe and home in her arms. As if slapped out of a memory, she turned around suddenly and she beat the crap out her punching bag, once again envisioning. This time, though, the victim of her imagination was Logan. 


	4. Whisper of the Rain

Original Cindy looked on painfully as Max sat on the couch, her mind somewhere else. On someone else. OC knew. The words were never spoken, but she knew. She knew no one else could make her boo cry every night, haunting her dreams. She knew no one else who could take Max's mind off things – off anything but him. She knew no one else who could kill Max inside by simply leaving. She knew it was only him.  
  
"Boo, you haven't been to work for days." OC sighed, knowing her fatal attempts at contacting Max would be of no use. This time, though, she got a small response.  
  
"So? Neither has he." Max whispered into the silence of their apartment. She never took her eyes off the spot out the window. She didn't bother to glance at OC; her eyes would have been filled with worry and disappointment. Max's eyes were too accustomed to those feelings already. She didn't need more.  
  
"Max, you have to get out of this funk."  
  
"No I don't." OC moved to sit by her girl, hoping to comfort her in some way. Max winced at her friend's touch. OC was hurt. She was no Alec, but that didn't mean she was nobody. But at the moment, there could be nobody. Nobody but Alec.  
  
"Okay boo, I'm gonna go. Just remember, there's only so many times a girl can use 'Max is sick,' on Normal without him going all rotated on us." The feeble attempt to make Max smile barely broke the surface of her mask.  
  
"I'm sure he's too worried about HIM to notice." Max didn't even use Alec's name anymore. It hurt too damn much. At Max's comment, though, OC's lips twitched. It was the truth, and it would have been funny if Max hadn't been in the same state as Normal. Worse, even. And OC had to admit, that was kinda funny. But it was not enough to wake her boo from her trance. She glided out of the apartment, leaving Max in peace.  
  
After a few minutes, Max moved to stand next to the windowpane. Her fingers splayed out, touching the cool, smooth surface. She stared out at the rain, and laid her head again the glass.  
  
"Alec," she whispered to the cold, hard screen. It was the first time in days she had said it, like his name was forbidden. She felt unworthy of him, of his presence, of his guilt and of his name.  
  
"Don't do this to me." She said quietly, silently sobbing in time with the rhythmic beating of soft raindrops caressing her face against the barrier. And in a millisecond, Max died inside.  
  
The drum of the continual drizzle on the roof of his flashy convertible, which now seemed like a bad idea for a car, soothed Alec into a semi- peaceful state of mind. He was just letting his mind wander, listening to the whisper of the rain, until something hit him. Hard. Not physically, mind you. It was a jolt through his entire body, his mind sending him a secret message for him to decode. Suddenly, his serenity vanished, leaving no trace or evidence of its previous existence. Pain spread through him, like some other being was taking hold of his body. Unconsciously, Alec turned the key in the ignition and pressed his foot on the gas, turning the car around and speeding in the opposite direction than before. Something, or someone, was pulling him towards Seattle. 


	5. Stripped Away

The car halted. Alec was pulled into reality. He slammed on the breaks in desperation. In front of him was a large sign displaying the cheery words, "Welcome to Seattle!" He had driven most of the way home in a daze. No, not home. He had no home. Not anymore. But there was almost a magnetic force yanking him, calling him, summoning him to Seattle. Confusion was an understatement. His eyes settled on the keys in the ignition. Lethargically, he twisted the golden piece.  
  
The top of the convertible suddenly jerked backwards. It slowly, mechanically shifted back and down into hiding. Raindrops dripped on the car's new owner, creating a cold, wet halo on his head. The drip intensified, beating down randomly and curling into his golden hair. The water splashed against his face, washing and stripping away a layer of stress. They glided down from the heavens, swiftly hitting their targets. They swept away dirt, grit, grime, panic, hurt, punishment and feeling. Cascading down the curves and slipping into the concaves of the human face, they merged and blended with the salty tears spilling down from his unengaged hazel orbs. The mixture seeped into the lips of the man, letting him taste the natural concoction. The only reaction they received was a continual downpour. He tilted his head, allowing the beads to smack against his forehead and ooze into his eyes. His lids lifted, displaying the onslaught of H20. Several droplets stuck themselves in his long eyelashes, causing him to blink. As he stared up at the deep, blackening sky, he pleaded, "Help me."  
  
And, ignoring the soaked clothes clinging to his back, he could have sworn he felt a small touch and the voice of an angel breathing a comforting, "Okay."  
  
Okay was the farthest adjective from Original Cindy's mind as she looked on with horror at Max's paling face. Just returning from work, the sassy chick found her boo in the same position she left her in.  
  
The petite brunette was leaning again the windowpane, staring off into oblivion. She was transfixed on a spot. It held her attention. So it seemed from the outside. Inside, nothing was registering. Her mind, her thoughts, her heart were all miles away. They had disappeared with out a trace. And so had he. Her spunky, energetic sprit was now a dim light, threatening to vanish. It had moved on. Everything about her had. Her whole self went where he went. She was just a step behind. Always a step behind. All that was left in the small apartment was the casing, the shed layer, the old home abandoned. Her body was an empty shell, no longer encasing the life of the occupant. Max has departed. So had Alec. And the journey home depended solely on him. 


End file.
